


Dilly-Dally, Shilly-Shally

by Eden Marie Dawson (GodDamnedPlums)



Category: Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: F/M, Heavy Angst, somewhat happy ending?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7959286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodDamnedPlums/pseuds/Eden%20Marie%20Dawson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Where there is desire, there is gonna be a flame, where there is a flame someone's bound to get burned, but just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die, you've gotta get up and try, try, try."</p><p>**My first Final Fantasy fanfic. This used to be up on deviantART, and it's unbeta'd, so....be nice? xD**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dilly-Dally, Shilly Shally

Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally.

The words rang clear in his mind. Such sweet, innocent words. Words that played such a big part in his heart and mind, even to this day. It was remarkable how such a silly saying could still wrench the Wutai man's heart, even when the original owner of that saying had long since passed on. Four small words that had once filled his heart with joy, now shattered it into unfixable shards as they fell from the lips of another other than the one he loved.

To this day, he could still see her. Standing amongst the flowers that she seemed to cherish so much.

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally." The beautiful flowergirl smiled as she turned around to face the Wutai man that was standing behind her. "Haven't you ever considered having a little fun, Tseng?"

Fun. The word had once been foreign to him, save for when he was in the company of the brunette. He had known her since she was a small child, and though he was quite a bit older than she, he could not help but to fall in love with the beautiful woman she had become. Her angelic features and bright green eyes lit up any room that she entered, and her smile could melt the heart of all men who looked her way.

Men that Tseng wanted to protect her from. He believed her to be the one to save this world from its total destruction one day, and for that reason alone, he wanted to keep her pure. Pure in mind, body and soul. For that reason alone, he wanted to protect her from all else around her. Even himself.

"I'm having a good time here, Aerith," he had mumbled to her, though a small hint of a smile had creeped onto his face, despite his struggle to keep it down. He couldn't help himself; that smile was infectious.

The flowergirl put her hands on her hips, which made a small chuckle rise to his lips. She was attempting to look intimidating, but her innocence merely made her look as if she were a child pouting about not getting her way. Tseng soon crossed the path made in the flowers--one musn't trample them, after all, and placed his calloused hand upon her cheek. His thumb was tracing a gentle line back and forth over her smooth skin as he peered down into her eyes, so warm with love and kindness.

"I'm always having a good time when I'm with you, Aerith. You give me the reasons that I've been searching for to keep going on in this hellish world."

Aerith had smiled and placed her hand over his. She lifted those light green eyes of hers and smiled, almost playfully, at the raven-haired man.

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally, Tseng. You have many reasons to keep living in this world. This place alone is proof that even flowers can grow in damaged soil," she had paused to move her hand over to Tseng's chest, just above his heart. "When they're given the proper care."

Her words had stunned the darkeyed male. His brow had furrowed slightly, almost as if he were trying to process the information that he had just recieved. Tseng had always been a strong, quiet man, even when he was with the flowergirl. Those same dark eyes had widened, however, when she had leaned up and brushed her lips feather lightly against his own.

The temptation had grown too strong for him to resist any longer. His large hand had slid to gently cup her cheek, and soon he pressed his lips down upon hers, giving in to the desires he had been fighting down for so very long. He wouldn't harm her, nor could he ever. His other arm slid slowly around her waist to support her, as he felt her delicate arms encasing his neck, and her gentle fingers gliding through the thick ebony hair that she had somehow freed from its holder.

"I love you," he whispered softly against her lips.

But all too soon, the moment, the memory, the girl, they were ripped from him by forces beyond his control. In place of his beloved's face, came the shimmering image of the man who he loathed more than anything else possibly imaginable. The man who had taken everything away from him: Sephiroth.

He lunged at the man, yelling out his rage, though a rarity it was. The ex-general was but a mirage, however, and vanished before Tseng could reach him; he left behind nothing but the rumbling of deep, dark and sadistic laughter. He laughed at Tseng's pain. He mocked how he hadn't been there to keep her safe, as he had once promised. He relished in the anquish the Wutai man still held, even to this day.

As Tseng fell from the lunge, he found himself falling, on and on until he was certain he would remain in a smokey white limbo for the rest of eternity. Until the fog cleared, and he found himself laying in the very flowers that he had so very often visited in years past. Standing, he felt as if everything around him were going in slow motion. Or perhaps it was he, that was moving in slow motion. He couldn't be sure of which.

"Aerith.." He muttered softly as he allowed his eyes to adjust to the lighting of the flower garden. "I'm sorry that I broke my promise. I told you that I would protect you from this world.. I failed to do that.."

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally." He heard the words spoken from behind him. When he turned, he felt the breath being knocked clear out of him, causing him to stand there, shocked and frozen in awe as he gazed upon the beauty that was his beloved. It wouldn't appear that he would need to move, however, as the flowergirl closed the space between them and placed her hand upon his cheek, so that this time, her thumb was rolling over his slightly scarred skin.

"I don't regret anything, Tseng, and neither should you. No one knew what he was going to do, not even I could have predicted something like that. I have learned to forgive, and now it is time that you must, too. If you can't forget, forgive and move on."

Once more, her words had struck him speechless. He had since regained control over his limbs, and reached one hand up slowly to trace over the pale, flawless cheek to her right. He almost seemed serene, until she had stepped away from him, and began walking off.

"No... no, wait! Aerith!" Tseng had tried calling out to her, but to no avail. His flowergirl vanished in the light, and in doing so, brought Tseng crashing back to reality with a hard, soundless drop. The ebony-haired man sat up straight in his bed, the covers all thrown astray and his hair flying all over the place so much it would make even Cloud envious. Tears had stained his scarred cheeks as he dropped his head into his hands, unaware, or merely uncaring, of the three Turks that stood inside his bedroom doorway, watching on with worried and curious eyes.

"Aerith.. I'm sorry.."

Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally.


	2. Into The Night

Sweat mixed with salty tears as they ran down the Turk's cheeks. Shaking hands slid into the messy raven locks, soon gripping them until the knuckles had turned taught and pale with the force used to do so. It was a rare moment for Tseng--to lose control as he was now, that is. Dark, weeping eyes, screwed shut tightly as if he were trying to either block out the images that had just played over in his mind's eye, or if he were desperately trying to claw at the darkness so that he could get them back. So that he could pull her back and into his arms, where she belonged all along.

A scream of agony tore from Tseng's throat, making the smallest of the Turks at the door inhale sharply and jump back away from the scene. The blonde known as Elena had backed into Rude, who was standing just outside the door, his own emotions hidden behind the dark glasses he wore, even when indoors. The boldest of the four, however, decided to step into the room to offer comfort for the elder man.

A mistake he soon regretted, as once Tseng had caught sight of the others presence, he leapt from the bed and struck forward blindly at the redhead. Reno had just enough time to dodge the first punch before Tseng came back around to connect with his upper back. The long ponytail that the redhead wore was the perfect leverage that Tseng needed in order to throw his opponent into the wall. At his current state of agony, he wasn't planning to fight by any sort of guideline, even if Reno was one of his teammates. He soon had him pinned against the stone wall, with his right knee grinding mercilessly into his spine, causing the other to grunt in pain.

"Tseng! What's gotten into you?" Elena had started forward, but Rude was holding her back. Reno was his partner, yes, but even he knew how strong the Wutai man was, and when in a state such as this, he knew it wouldn't be wise to try to reason with him without a considerable distance set between them. Reno grunted from the wall, causing Tseng to direct his attention momentarily away from Elena.

"The hell's wrong with ya, yo? Get the fuck offa me!"

"What are you three doing here?" He mused instead, keeping the gripping hold he had on Reno's arms and back in place, while his dark gaze shifted towards Rude. The dark-skinned male kept his voice as even as possible.

"The President sent us, Tseng. You've been MIA since yesterday morning."

"And you thought to come here...last." His words formed more of an 'are you fucking stupid' statement, rather than a question. "Interesting."

"T-Tseng... why were you dreaming about the flowergirl? Again.." The saddening tone in Elena's voice made one of Tseng's eyebrows quirk upward. It was no secret that the little blonde had been in love with him since before he could remember, but the feelings were not, and would never be reciprocated.

"She's been dead fer a year or so, yo." Reno muttered, but his words ended in a sharp yelp of pain falling from his lips as his already bruised spinal cord met harshly with the metal frame of Tseng's bed. Even Rude's mouth had dropped open slightly at the brash display that Tseng emitted once the subject of the fallen brunette was brought up.

"I swore that I would protect her. I failed her, and worse yet, I have allowed her murderer to walk free, whilst we run around like little puppets for a man who couldn't care less for our safety, or the safety of anyone else but his own." Tseng's words were a result of his pain and anger spilling forth, bubbling over the surface and flooding the damn between reason and hatred. Dark eyes slid to hover over the expression of each of his friends in turn; from Reno who was glaring at him from the bed, with blood running down from his nose and the left corner of his mouth, to Rude, who stood with his shades having slid down just enough to reveal a slight glimmer of fear in his brown eyes, and finally to Elena, who's face was contorted into a strange mixture of sadness, worry, and jealousy. Three friends, each so different in personality, all wanting to help Tseng through his pain.

The best thing that they could do, however, was get out of his way.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sephiroth!" Tseng's voice could be heard throughout the barren wasteland. The Wutai man, normally so reserved and quiet, was stalking the seemingly empty land, looking for the ex-General. His hatred for the silverette had blocked out all reason and common sense; all he wanted now was blood shed. Sephiroth's blood. He needed to see the man suffer for the crimes he had committed, not just for the city, but for his own sick revenge as well. There was a part of Tseng that didn't believe he was doing this for the city at all. He wanted to avenge Aerith; he wanted revenge for what it was that had been taken away from him so quickly, and so mercilessly. He wanted Sephiroth to die.

"Come out here, you fucking coward!" He called out again. Tseng held in his hand the one weapon that he had always chosen to use: a simple gun that packed a powerful shot. It wasn't the most practical choice to use against the silverhaired abomination, but Tseng's practicality had pretty much been smothered along with his common sense.

"Aren't we a bold one," the smooth voice that came from behind the ravenhaired Turk made his blood ice over and the hair on the back of his neck stick straight up. The voice that struck fear into the hearts of so many throughout Midgar. The monster whom had smiled as he tore his world apart. Sephiroth.

Tseng's blood soon started to boil as he turned around to meet his fate. The fallen angel, as Elena had so often referred to him, was standing there with a smug look of knowing written across his face. Even now, as Tseng gripped the gun between shaking fingers, the man mocked him. He truly was a monster. One who needed to be destroyed. "Die," Tseng had muttered just before he lunged forward at the man once again. This was no mirage; this was real. This was his moment of truth. Kill or be killed.

The first shots that Tseng had fired had been deflected easily by the sword Sephiroth so lovingly caressed and held dearly to the black hole that was his heart. The third, however, had succeeded in sliding through the ex-general's flesh, awarding Tseng with the sickening sound of skin tissue and muscle ripping open. The other didn't seem to be afflicted with the small yet painful wound, however. With a smirk of wicked intent, Sephiroth pushed off of the platform he was perched upon and swing masamune downward, striking at Tseng's left shoulder. The Turk was quick, just barely, and was able to roll out of the way just in time to watch the sword come down to a crashing blow beside him.

"You," Sephiroth spoke with a hint of amusement haunting his voice. "I have seen you before. My curiousity is peaked, however, at why you have sought me out on your own. Perhaps you've discovered some unfinished business with me, or.." Sephiroth rose into the air, slashing down swiftly at Tseng once again. The Turk lifted his arm to fire again, but soon found blistering pain searing through his arm as Masamune slid in deep, and almost through the bone of his forearm. Dark orbs met glistening jade as he peered up at his sword enemy. "Perhaps you hold some connection to the little girl found with the flowers by her side."

Sephiroth's words only added fuel to the fire. Like a moth to a flame, Tseng fell for Sephiroth's trap and wrenched his arm backward to dislodge it from the sword. If he had been at himself, he would have discovered right then that the ex-general was merely playing with him. But why? For what reason? Not that the silverette needed one, of course--Sephiroth never needed a reason for creating the catastrophic disasters that he did. He simply seemed to enjoy watching the world bend and burn around him. What wouldn't bend to his will, was destroyed.

Three more shots were fired into the air, each one directing straight for Sephiroth: One at his chest, another at his shoulder, and finally, one aimed directly for his head. Tseng was awarded once more with the sound of ripping flesh, but unfortunately enough for him, the sound that he had heard was not his mortal enemy being ripped open. It was not the silverette's scream that shattered the otherwise silent air around them. It was not the ex-general that had been thrown into the air like a piece of raw meat and carved like a Thanksgiving turkey.

It was not Sephiroth that was left laying on the stained gravel of the Midgar road, staring up into the sadisticly twisted and gleaming eyes of his attacker, but Tseng instead.

"You are a fool," Sephiroth muttered as he looked down at the cracked expression that the Wutai man wore. "Or, should I say, you were a fool."


	3. Even Angels Fall

Pain. It coursed through Tseng's body like venom slipping into the bloodstream. Sephiroth had used his body as a carving stone for his blade; each new slice and gash was made so precisely and swift that barely a stain was left upon the blade at its removal from his flesh. However, the Wutai man had felt very single blow. The sting of metal sliding through flesh and bone had caused him to cry out, the sound shriller than the yell of agonzing sorrow left behind by Cloud upon Zack's death. Tseng had lost his temper on occasion, but it was rare that he let his voice rise to such decibels. It was rare he gave anyone the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

"You are a fool," he had heard Sephiroth muttere from above him. The ex-general's left boot was pressing down onto a particularly deep and painful wound by his right side. Tseng was staring death in the face, and it was currently weilding a six-foot long blade known as Masamune. "Or, should I say, you were a fool." Those were the last words that Tseng remembered hearing before he forced his eyes to close. He was a proud man; he had hoped that he could picture something more beautiful in his time of dying, rather than the twisted features of the silverette hovering above him, ready to deliever the final kill shot.

The shot that never came. There was no added pain, no rush of blood from a newly created wound, no peaceful sleep accompanied by an unbeating heart. The Turk slowly opened his eyes again so that he could peer round and find where he was at. He was still laying on the blood stained streets, though this time, he was surrounded by the faces of the three that he knew actually cared for him. Straining his eyesight, he could even see Rufus sitting there, bandaged, but lacking the blanket that shielded his form from the world.

"Wh-what.." The words wouldn't seem to form on his dry and cracked lips. His voice sounded distant, even to his own ears, as he tried to croak out the question. "Wh-why..h-here.."

Elena, with tears of sorrow soaking her cheeks and the collar of her uniform, was the first one by his side. She cradled his head in her lap, neglecting to care for even a millisecond about getting blood on her clothes. She smoothed his matted hair back slowly, gently hushing him. Her tears were falling down into the open wounds on his face, creating a small sting that Tseng barely noticed.

Rude, who was kneeling on Tseng's left while Reno took a stance on his knees by his right, had taken his shades off and was using his thumb and forefinger to pinch the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he had been trying to avoid the inevitable since they had discovered the body of their fallen friend. Reno was the most composed of the three, but it was clear by the look in his emerald eyes and sad tone that he was wavering on the brink of breaking down himself.

"You're an idiot, yo.." He started out, looking over the damage of his body. There was no way that the three of them could get Tseng back to town for treatment without his wounds tearing anymore than they already were, and there wasn't enough time to wait for even a chopper to arrive with medical assitance. The redheaded Turk turned his head to the side, the hot tears finally sliding down his cheeks in silence.

Tseng was having trouble focusing on his friends. He reached a hand over to Rude and patted his leg once, then repeated the same action with Reno. Finally reaching his hand upward, he took Elena's palm into his. "I-I'm.. I'm...n-not sorry.." He muttered, making Elena's eyes widen. His next words caused the tears to fall at a faster rate. "R-Reno...Rude...t-take..take care of Elena..when I'm gone.."

There was no denying that he was dying. The four of them knew this, but three of the four didn't want to admit it. One of them didn't want to accept it. She held as tight as she could onto Tseng's hand, until she felt his grip loosening. Until his hand lay limp in her own. Until his eyes remained open, but unseeing, forever more.

"Come on, Tseng! It's time to come home."

The flowergirl's voice drifted into his ears, making the ravenhaired Turk turn his head. He looked down at his body, and discovered that he was still dressed in his normal uniform, but there were no blood stains or wounds to be seen. At first he had thought he was dreaming again, just dreaming of a memory, but that was impossible-- there had been no scars on his hands when he was dreaming of Aerith. No, he wasn't dreaming.

A light laugh echoed from ahead of him. He lifted his dark gaze and saw that Aerith was standing there, with a smiling Zack leaning against what looked to be a door frame, holding her hand out for him to take. She looked as beautiful and as radient as she had ever looked before.

"Come on, lets go home. Where we belong."

"Home." The word, it tasted foreign on his tongue. But as he watched Aerith nod, and as he slid his hand into hers, to feel the warmth of her skin and the love she held for him flowing around him, he knew he was where he needed to be. Where he was meant to be. Tseng was finally home.

"I'm sorry, Aerith.. for breaking my promise." He felt like he needed to apologize to her, at least once more.

"Dilly-dally, Shilly-shally, Tseng. Even angels fall sometimes." The flowergirl smiled up at the Turk as together, hand in hand, they followed Zack into the light that would lead them home.


End file.
